


You're a Distraction

by Aithilin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 03:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15940910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aithilin/pseuds/Aithilin
Summary: Ignis was almost worried when Noctis didn't want his help with studying.





	You're a Distraction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JazzRaft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/gifts).



He started to notice the change when Noctis was in high school. When the seasons turned and the grades with it. While there was no dip in the results over the school terms— according to the reports Ignis managed to sneak looks at as they were filed away after the king’s reports— there was no obvious progress either. And somewhere along the way, between the long summer breaks, Noctis had stopped accepting his offer to tutor. 

Ignis had no doubt that his prince was studying at some point in his day. It was just never when he was around. 

Well, there was some doubt. 

“Did you need help studying for your test, Noct?”

“No, Specs.”

Ignis had offered before, and often. When the school year dragged on and the tests took on more importance. As the grades demanded more attention. More care. 

He would look from the pile of unopened, unmarked textbooks to where Noctis was settled with his latest game. “I can stay—”

“I got it, Iggy, you don’t need to.” Noctis would barely look at him, focused on the screen and noise and all the things that Ignis would say was a distraction from the real work at hand; “Prompto might come by later to study.”

“I could—”

“Iggy, no. It’s fine.”

After all the years spent together— learning each other, knowing his prince as a friend rather than monarch— Ignis knew that this wasn’t a rejection. That this wasn’t being pushed away or replaced for a closer school friend. He still hid the sting of it behind the task at hand and focused on storing the leftovers meant to last the prince the next few days. 

Only now he could feel Noctis’ eyes on him. He could hear the chipper music of a paused game, and sense the way Noctis worked up courage to say something. It was a sensation Ignis knew well; he had watched Noctis work up the nerve to speak or act for years now. He had watched and listened, and he had always been patient before. 

Before. 

“Noctis, is there something bothering you?”

Cornering Noctis, drawing his attention to a matter before he was ready, rarely worked. Making demands worked even less. But Ignis was an adviser. And Gladio may have been right in his assessment of ‘babying’ the prince through the duties and expectations he would need to perform. 

“Have I done something,” Ignis hesitated to say it. To give voice to the concern that had been eating away at him for the past few weeks in the face of Noctis’ dismissals; “wrong?”

The cheerful, chipper music filled the apartment from the television screen. From the speakers that they had placed strategically around the room together, shortly after Noctis had moved into the apartment. Ignis had recruited Gladio for that, while Noctis flitted between them, curious but unwilling to ask why Ignis had put himself in charge of setting up the entertainment unit. He still could feel the prince’s delight— arms wrapped around his waist to pull him to the sofa to enjoy the movie with him once they had settled in— at the surround sound. 

The apartment was as much his as it was Noctis’. His mark left across the living room, the kitchen, the organisation of the place. He had spent nights here, with Noctis pressed against his side on the sofa or in the lounge chairs on the balcony. He had claimed the kitchen for himself, and there were shelves in the closet in Noctis’ room, hangers in the closet. 

He had never felt so banished from his own space before. 

He didn’t meet Noctis’ eyes as he continued. As he snapped plastic lids into place. “Because if you need some room? Perhaps an week, or—”

“No!”

Noctis hadn’t moved, but his eyes were wide, the controller set aside on the cluttered coffee table, the prince ready to spring to his feet if his friend made a move towards the door. Ignis knew that look— it had been the same when they were young, when nightmares plagued the prince for long, dark hours. When he made a move towards the hallway, when he suggested he leave Noctis’ side to find the king. 

“Noct?”

“I just… I can’t study around you, Specs. But I don’t want you gone.”

“You can’t…” Ignis started, confused by the words. Palms flat on the cool counter, looking for clarification in the familiar workspace rather than in the blush rising in Noctis’ cheeks. “If you think I’ll judge your study methods, Noctis, I—”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what? Surely if I’ve done something to upset you, I should be made aware? Have I spoken out of turn about your school work?” He ran through every last report he had brought up, and found nothing harsh in his memory. He recalled praise, and promises, and Noctis’ sweet smile at both. The shy little glances away from him, the brightness in his features. The blushes and little laughs at him to stop. 

“I,” Noctis rubbed a hand over his eyes. He squared his shoulders and rushed through his explanation; “I can’t think straight with you, Specs.”

Ignis frowned at that on instinct. He paused and tried to puzzle his way through the confusion. “I beg your pardon?”

Noctis groaned, finally freed from whatever had caused his earlier inaction. Falling back on the sofa, he pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes; “I can’t think straight around you. You’re distracting.”

“I don’t—”

“I know you don’t mean to be. But you are. You…” Ignis would have smiled at the way Noctis seemed to know what he was going to say, seemed to anticipate what he was going to apologise for; “You’re always so attentive and close and you keep asking if I need help or anything and…”

“I can give you space, Noct, as I said. If you want me to step away for a few days?”

“No, I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay.”

“But you feel I distract you.”

“Its a good distraction, you idiot.”

“A good… Oh. Oh!” 

“Shut up.”

“Noctis, do you like me?”

“Shut up.”

Ignis didn’t know when he decided to leave the little fortress of the kitchen. When the barricade of the counter became more of a cage. When he started to step towards where Noctis was still firmly ignoring the confession he had just spilt out into the living room, carried by the cheerful pause music of the game frozen in place on the television. “Noctis, if I may?”

Noctis nodded, eyes still hidden, but blush apparent. Ignis took his friend’s hands in his own, and pressed a kiss to the warmed forehead. “I like you too, Noct.”

“Don’t go.”

“You have a test,” Ignis smiled, and teased, and knew that they would have plenty more to say between them soon enough; “and I distract you.”

“Iggy—”

“I won’t leave you for long.”

“Do you really like me too?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“You’re not just saying that?”

“No, I’m not just saying that.”

“Don’t go. I have the whole weekend to study.”


End file.
